


a guide to breaking rules

by SecretReyloTrash (BadOldWest)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Blowjobs, Bondage and Discipline, Canon Divergence, Cum Play, Cunnilingus, Edging, Exhibitionism, F/M, Kylo Ren gives Rey specific and clear rules that she defies at every possible opportunity, Kylo is definitely making this up as he goes, Kylo may have a humiliation kink, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Rey is going to do some dirty shit out of spite, Rey will have multiple partners at some point i am warning you now, Spanking, Topping from the Bottom, but it goes pretty well considering!, rey is not a saint, rey is not nice, sexually experienced Rey, subverting some dom/sub vibes, there is always consent we're not going there, tit worship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-15 00:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16052000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadOldWest/pseuds/SecretReyloTrash
Summary: Already, delivering the first rule, he loses her. Her eyes nearly fall back in their sockets from the fury of the roll she gives him. Even on her knees, her hands tied behind her back, as he offers his terms for her to belong to him.(she’ll take them already, without listening, bold and uncaring once ripped from the place of waiting)Kylo Ren gives his prisoner the option to belong to him or belong in a cell. The only thing she enjoys about his carefully crafted rules seems to be breaking them.





	1. Rule 1: Modesty

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! So remember after TFA, before TLJ emotionally ruined us, there was sort of a rougher quality to Reylo smut? I kind of live for that phase. So while I want everyone to enjoy the ride, I will ask that for every update, please double-check the tags to ensure your own comfort above all else. I can promise you Kylo will not be Rey's only sexual partner in this fic, she's going to do a lot of spiteful shit in defiance of Kylo's list of rules (we're attacking it one chapter per rule) and so this is darker than my usual smut, a lot dirtier, and less about feminism or ethics in pornography or how to be a support network for someone recently sober. I still write that stuff! Just not here.

  1. **As you represent me, and I own you, you will dress and behave modestly in public.**



 

Already, delivering the first rule, he loses her. Her eyes nearly fall back in their sockets from the fury of the roll she gives him. Even on her knees, her hands tied behind her back, as he offers his terms for her to belong to him. 

(she’ll take them already, without listening, bold and uncaring once ripped from the place of waiting)

It was this or the entire Resistance burn. According to  _ him _ . It was more likely this or  _ rot in a cell until someone found her, _ and Finn should be back for her any moment. He’s just trying to scare her. Her mind flinches off his attempts to infiltrate her with terror. 

(there’s something about the Sith princeling that makes her smirk when he tries to soothe his low voice and seduce her)

So she says yes. Any day now she’ll be back on Jakku, and in her past waiting she found there wasn’t much room for energy worrying about minor inconveniences. 

_ “What was that?” _ he nearly screeches at her chuckle, and she straightens her back before he grabs her. Her chest collides with the floor when he presses her, her pants get yanked down around her knees. A spanking lands squarely on her bare ass.  _ That does hurt. _ Not enough to be unbearable, but she accepts a reluctance to ever make a habit of provoking them from him. She wiggles a little to redistribute the weight rested on her chest, chin pressed to the floor, but he clears his throat and collects her back up to a kneel like he clumsily knocked over a vase and was placing it back on the table. Going so far as to brush some hair out of her face, now that she’s righted back up. This bashfulness makes her laugh at her master, silently this time. Defying him silently is enough.

Her ass is still _burning._

(she was flippant about her allowance to refuse him)

(there frankly was a laziness to that, as though she couldn’t think of a better idea so she just went with his)

Still, she does not regret laughing out loud at a rule that implies terrible characterization of her; as though she is anything but firm wraps and hidden joints. He’s seen her  _ ass _ before he’s seen her elbows and knees. Reddened it with his gloved hand. He hadn’t even seen her  _ wrists yet  _ when he had administered this first, badly-thought-out rule, and by then she knew to ignore all the ones that would follow. And says  _ yes _ to it anyway.

(there is nothing else to lose, if she’s not back on Jakku when her family gets back)

He gives her the remaining rules with a cruel tone, but she knows better; he is only bluffing. He keeps talking, never stops, and when she lets him run dry he often finds himself making a point the opposite of what he started at. He has gone from depicting the arrangement as a cruel one, with her lacking any choice, to softening the pitch to a mutually beneficial partnership and now  _ this is what’s best for you; who has nothing _ . 

(truthful, but unwise to say to the women he meant to seduce)

She wriggles in her binds, keeping her chin high. Her nod is what causes the pale cock of her new master to press to her lips, his arm rigid as he feeds it into her open mouth. 

(the only way out has ever been through; Rey is not scared to push through)

She sucks until her neck chords, until her mouth pops air past her lips at the fervor of suction inside, until a little ache heats at her temple, a vein rising that his eyes don’t miss. His thumb touches the raised, pulsing vein on her red face. 

He  _ keeps talking.  _

In a few days, he will be leaving. He will be gone for a week. This is a hasty introduction to her new role. He strokes her hair as he talks. She keeps moving her mouth up and down his thick cock. Barely listening. Her jaw aches. 

She had assumed the First Order would offer a stronger training program to subordinates, even sexual ones. She’s fine making her way on her own but it seems less of their style. She expected propaganda. Initiation. Not a man standing above her seemingly making up rules as he went along. The transaction does not feel like a promise to listen to everything he says, at least not for the rest of her life. It feels like  _ just say yes to what I’m saying now because I’ll change my mind later and we can revise. _

Hastily constructed rules, she will only serve under them with the amount of thought he gave in making them. 

He only longs to  _ scare _ her into submission when his firm hand cannot beat her into it. She takes the orders well, as she does his cock down her flexing, straining throat, and when he cums he stumbles away from her like a fathier colt learning to walk and ruins his illusion of perfect control. He looks stunned.

(has he never met a girl who could suck a cock before?)

She hasn't been able to feel much through the force, but there's something there that shocks her.

(he didn't think this would happen so fast)

Spend leaks from his cock all over the lacquered black floor of his chamber. She has not even seen the room with his bed yet, where she is expected to sleep from now on. She lifts the arms behind her back to better balance as she bends down and licks up the spill beside her knee on the floor, a mess he made from hastiness and frankly, for being the one to break first. He looks startled. Foolish of him, to show weakness like this. To waste the first rule on demanding prim necklines and quiet tones. It was his first test, and he’s already failed. She doesn’t owe him a cowl and an averted gaze at every passerby. Her tongue traces the trail of semen to his foot. 

She passes her cum-soaked tongue back into her mouth and lets the seed slide down her throat. Staring up at him.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” his lips are swollen -has he been biting them?- “I-I should have trained you properly, I…”

(doesn’t seem to know what he should have done, this one)

Her swallow of him warms her belly, the sight of him so deeply weakened turns gears in her head. 

Mechanically minded, is his scavenger apprentice. Student. Slave. The role is as unclear as the rules he expects her to follow. When he reacts so much more pleasantly when she doesn't: he does not respond kindly when she is a student in his bed and loathes when she is a submissive to his teachings when he reluctantly shows her how to use small pieces of her powers. She tests this when he has her levitate a small obsidian stone and she sends the rock sharply colliding with the bridge of his nose. She usurps the lesson out of boredom; half expecting an open-handed slap in the face. She can take that. Pain in exchange for power. A flash of motion from him across from her made her close her eyes in anticipation of the sting. His tongue fills her mouth instead. It feels like the first time he wants her physically beyond some idea that he’s s _ upposed _ to. 

(it’s as if he’s merely pretending to be a master)

His cock in her mouth appeared to be a gesture to seal their bargain. It stayed out of her body since then, in all ways, despite some routine every once in a while about making her crawl, making her serve him dinner, making her wait on him.

His tongue is different, as it wanes like a retreating tide to then guide his lips against hers, conquering her and then _asking_ to. Reversed. The wrong order. A domination before even a kiss.

He thanks her when she fills his glass without being asked, as he had instructed her to do, which strikes her as odd. He seems to agree, or read that from her face, because he takes a large sip and doesn’t speak the rest of the meal, instead making her sit on his lap and spoon the food into his mouth, then feed it to him with her bare hands so he can like the residue from her fingers.

(making it up as he goes)

It is clear this was going to be a nightly routine to be his student, more than sex has been since he came so shamefully in front of her all over the floor. He sits her on his black sheets and has her move small things towards him before they go to bed properly like it’s a bedtime story.

He manhandles her, sure, to prove a point about his physical strength, but he merely lies beside her and flips her over and rolls her to sleep as he wishes her to. It annoys her that her body complies to rest against his even though it is ridiculous to demand she sleep in a certain position.

(sleeping in silk, with no trace of sand on her skin, may make things easier)

She wears only her various nightgowns the first week of Kylo Ren’s absence, her legs and modest breasts spilling from silk that was about as committal as a half-hearted shrug when it came to covering up her body. And she makes her presence very, very known this way. In a way it is freeing. She could not leave Jakku, could not hastily make enemies and even less hastily make any friends. There was something freeing, in her confidence Finn was just moments away, in behaving like there was nothing to lose. She shows herself to every underling of her greedy master. 

They all avert their eyes, it does not feel like enough.

She imposes herself on Hux in his quarters, the uptight tyrant, in search of a means to spend her new, ample allowance on garments meant to torture her master, and he gives her more headway the further the straps slide down her shoulders. Credits in exchange for inches of skin.

(is that why he insisted on modesty? was she too powerful?)

These garments of torture will be procured for her in whatever color she desires,  _ one in every color she desires, _ Hux amends, sweating, as she leans towards him and places a hand on his thigh.

(her master is powerful too, she knows no one can touch her back)

Her nipples strain against the silk, and she lets her body move to accommodate the sensation of soft caresses. Both of the fabric and the two eyes on her. 

Spite is a powerful tool, one she had plenty of on a planet she refused to leave the more she was mocked for staying. Enough so that this tightly-wrapped scavenger allows her bare nipple, slipped free from a plunging neck, to be under the gaze of a gulping ginger, letting the image soak into his feeble mind for her master to see when he gets back. A present for him. One she knows will make him spank her ass raw and say anything he can to scare her into obedience. 

(is it spite, or titillation, that forces her hand to cup her breast and strum the curve to bounce for its viewer?)

But when he returns, he goes straight to her. She believes he doesn’t know what she’s done yet, and the punishment will come when his soft words of greeting and exhaustion pass. Yet he does something odd. She can see how tired he is, the slump to his shoulders, but he is nothing but polite to her when he gently lifts her onto his desk and pulls aside the neckline of her nightgown. Soft lips latch to her breast. The same one she let fall out for Hux’s eyes to linger on as she swung her casually splayed legs.

(a coincidence?)

There is no malice in the mouth suckling at her.

He groans, hungrily, his teeth squeezing down just enough to hold the pebbled nipple in place for his slithering tongue to curl around it. Her hands lock in his hair, waiting for his wrath. 

It never comes. He just plays with her tit like he finally gets  _ his _ turn. It is just silence and wet sounds, his sighs, the occasional choked noise she holds in her throat. 

“W-welcome back,” she says with hands in his hair, to say anything at all, and he hums and laps at her skin, so much more solid than a pair of eyes. “Did you just land?”

He shakes his head. He speaks with his lips against her breast, so cozy with it he's almost making her wish she could leave the two of them alone. “There were orders I had to attend to before coming here. The Supreme Leader wished to speak with me.”

He says it like he matters, like he wants her to know he matters.

“Anyone else?”

The question is too obvious. It is now about him knowing, like she needs him to.

She feels him smile at her breast, this wired, trembling energy surging through him.

“Hux, the bastard,” he decides to tell her, his hands gripping her hips. _“Is something wrong?_ You look pale.”

There is fear he instills successfully this time. She looks down at him. His lips form a tight seal around her nipple and then release with a wet  _ pop. _  He places little kisses around the wet skin, humming curiously as he looks back up at her. _What?_ Rey shivers. 

He is smiling. 

A true sadist would not give her the rise out of him she so clearly wants. A weak one would beat her bloody for her defiance because there was no other way to control her. Here, she has him cradled to her breast, letting him do anything he wants, because she does know there will be consequences for her actions. For there to be consequences, he has to care.

It is crueler not to care. 

(or maybe he likes the defiance more than the act of punishing her)

What a powerful challenge. 

(next she decides she will strip for the entire barracks)


	2. loyalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, check the tags. If you felt unprepared for the content prefaced by tags provided, let me know and I will change them.

**ii. If you need anything, you will only ask** **_me_ ** **for it.**

She doesn’t wait around for him to get mad about it. Doesn’t fear it. He’s grabbed her by the hair a few times for minor infractions like annoying him or talking back and honestly, with the way he usually contains his anger, his real rage over anything involving Hux seeing her tit would have given him away by now. And it’s not by how hair-trigger that rage is. It’s how he’s  _ shy _ afterwards, regretful, attempting to right things through a surprising gentleness; and frankly the lack of commitment is an insult to her  _ choice _ to be his submissive and her well-honed tolerance for pain.

(and _he_ _ keeps touching her hair as an apology and it’s annoying _ )

He’s astounded, constantly, by her not just bending over out of fear she’ll make him mad. It’s as though she wants to make him mad.

(Why does he get to be annoying and she doesn’t)

And she knows how to weigh his fear, prodding it with her chin held high, so he shows his claws. It is a survival instinct and he has yet to show her something she can’t handle. 

But he looks so bruised, so torn, when he’ll hand her a bottle of perfume that she’ll immediately lob across the room at the wall. They look at the broken glass and smell the too-thick coat of it filling the airway. Kylo Ren spends too long licking his lips. He doesn’t know what to do with her, intentionally rubbing him the wrong way. And she just stares at him. Waiting for her spanking. Waiting for him to fist her hair in his hands and fuck her until she’ll never be the same. Which he hasn’t done yet. To any degree. 

(just because she’s being annoying on purpose does not let him off the hook-)

“You think I can’t take care of you,” he accuses that night after the door shuts in Hux’s face mid-sentence, or maybe mid-choke, “It’s why you’d go to  _ him _ for money.”

(she went to  _ him _ for half a reason to flash her breasts around to make her master miserable)

She’s ready for it when it does come, because that’s the safest bet, but she doesn’t weigh all of her actions wondering if this will be what sets him off for her little display. 

So when Hux delivers revised expense reports for the allowance she had asked to be raised, she’s not surprised when Kylo Ren  _ absolutely loses his mind, _ but she is surprised it’s over receipts and not, well, her breaking the gifts he brings her or the plucked mental image of her caressing her breasts to get those budgetary changes on Hux’s desk. 

He trashes the room.

And he gives her the second rule. Ask no one else. Just him.

“I wonder what brought this on,” she replies drolly, smirking when a decorative ornament somewhere in the room cracks in his fist. Rey understands violence. It’s like a song she knows well. 

(did he really think she survived on Jakku if she couldn’t take a hit?)

He doesn’t seem to understand she’s waiting for it. Like a sale where the buyer refuses to pay. The longer he makes her wait for the transaction the less she trusts him.

She’ll wait forever if she has to, she’s not escaping until Finn comes back out of pure pride at this point. Rey is patient like that. 

But that’s a little too complicated to unpack any further than from  _ this specific context. _

“You can show off your body to someone who will never have it.” He stumbles towards her, through the piles of destroyed objects he left in the wake of his tantrum. There’s a finger wagging, that at least feels like a scold and not him acting so betrayed by all this. She just walks steadily in a backwards circle away from him. He follows. but she's leading. This starts to feel like a charade. Nothing has been thrown even near close enough to startle the slightest flinch out of her.  _ His aim can’t be that bad.  _

That was more or less what she had been expecting. The stand-off, at least. Not that he seems...sickly... _ pleased _ with himself, that he got to rub it in Hux’s face that he only got to  _ look. _ And, well, by that logic, pleased with her. Because it was her idea.

He is saying  _ you can _ because...well...she could. Even if he meant it that way or not. 

(he might be actively encouraging her to torture him)

“You can show him what he will never have, because it’s mine. But he does not give you permission to do  _ anything _ that I have not granted you. You are not his to decide for.”

“You weren’t here. I figured I could defer to-”

He drags her towards him by her hips.

“That is an order. No one else is your keeper. You are mine.”

She narrows her eyes at him. That meant a lot of waiting, if he was gone. How far did this go? Would she not be allowed to request a different type of soup for lunch in his absence? Would she wait for weeks at a time to ask if she could trim her hair if he wasn’t around to permit it?

(waiting is not a pleasant concept for her)

(not for him)

But he’s pushing her down onto her knees, then bowed to the floor. His knee digs into her back.

“Pull them down for me,” he ghosts his hands over the cloth at her hips. He’s supplied her with too many dresses, there’s a pair of black leggings she hides from the maids and wears everyday underneath the shorter-skirted ones. He’s expressed his desire to see them gone. Too bad.

Ironically, they annoy him, and cover her. 

Modestly. 

He sounds off, his voice booming and authoritative, and she rolls her eyes. He doesn’t have to  _ signal _ to her he’s going to hit her, she knows why her fucking pants are around her knees:

_ “I don’t care if the Supreme Leader himself gives you permission; you will do nothing without asking me first.” _

Many smarter women would not talk back with their cheek pressed into a cold floor. Rey did not identify with these women.

“You sound so sure of yourself here, but would you say that in front of  _ your _ master?”

The resounding slap he gives her ass is deafening. She chokes out a cry in surprise, temple rested to the obsidian ground. 

She presses her brow to the slick surface, it’s cool and her spine is shaking with aftershocks. Sweaty fingers web out to properly balance herself. Her hair covers both sides of her face. She can hear him breathing heavily behind her. Curiously, he probes her folds between her legs. She’s soaking wet. They both feel safer, somehow, to ignore this, which is wasting a huge advantage on his part. 

He doesn’t even give friction, not to tease, and not lacking even to punish. He just seems...distracted by the sexual mechanics. He stares at the wetness coating his gloved fingers.

“Not so confident now,” she murmurs, closing her eyes. In being rewarded for her expectation of violence, there is a strange sense of peace. He reels away from her. “Would your  _ master _ like to hear that you think your will extends past his over a human girl?”

From where she’s seeing it (not the best vantage point) he looks horrified.

(he’s imaging telling the The Supreme Leader as she suggested, she’s sure, and the public mockery that would be his immediate execution)

This is not her feeling, and it startles her to sense it fluttering in her skull. Fear. 

“You’re the fool who gets wet when your master spanks you.”

He seems more defensive that disgusted. She can’t help but wonder, because he should be somewhat aware that this is how it’s _ supposed  _ to work.

“Have you... _ done this _ before?”

Something smashes against the floor behind her. Wrong question. 

“You...consented...to this arrangement.”

It’s hard to shrug with her ass in the air and her face on the ground, but she manages. “I consented to accept the role and its responsibilities...and consequences. You’re the one who said I needed to be trained.”

He comes up short at this, gawking and flooding with a sense of self-conscious ridiculousness. It’s like he sputtered out of fuel. Or when she hit a broken engine with a wrench and that somehow made it work. But he is at a loss for words. 

(again, she is the one on the floor with her ass in the air)

“You were testing me,” he seems to realize, when he’s the one who made the one damn rule and she’s the one who heard it and then  _ immediately _ broke it within the course of the week.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” she reasons, tentatively sitting up. He allows it, even if at a kneel, and that ‘assume position’ authority seems to have gone away. “I thought you would have worn me out by now, moved on to another prisoner.”

But all she has done is suck his cock, and let him play with her breasts until he fell asleep cuddling them, and watch her bathe this morning. 

He kept the mask on to watch her, but when she searched the feelings he told her to try and find in the force around her, she swore a blush radiated from underneath it when he saw her naked, steam-flushed pussy. Even she was impressed with it after a warm bath, on Jakku she never got as tender and lush because the lack of hot water to soften her skin.

But she played coy with her master, preferring to tease, and dressed with her back to him and a hand too quick to retrieve a towel and cover the whole affair. 

He could search Hux’s mind for a better show.

He is back in that withdrawn, restrained frame of mind. When Hux initially came by, he had been preparing for bed. There was a three dimensional puzzle he wanted her to unlock by using the force, to practice dexterity in moving things without touching them. That seeming to be his only plans for the evening really put a damper on things. His mask was off in the proceeding stand-off, there was less to hide, and it was that same regret he expressed after he came all over the floor when she took his cock in her mouth.

(great, soon there will be more hair-touching) 

“You need...a firm hand…”

She’s not going to bail him out here, because he’s the master, but she at least raises her eyebrows like he’s getting warmer. Maybe she did. Was he offering to finally supply it?

It’s all the same, if she’s owned, that she’s just going to keep finding ways to get out of things. Kind master. Cruel master. Since he has only given her one rule, his hope that she became broken in upon mere suggestion made her seriously question how well he knew women in general. One rule is not a lot to go off of when she’s trying to find where she fits in. A handful of touches. No actual sex, for a sexual submissive. 

She clears her throat, trying again.

“May I have some money for clothing, master? I wanted to pick some things out to wear for you.”

(Hux said she could)

_ “Of course you can,” _ he practically spits out, pressing her closer to the floor, and then swears. “No. I mean. You just.  _ Fine.” _

(she’s buying more leggings)

She shudders when his leather-covered finger swipes through her sex one more, deeper. 

Now she actually feels exposed. 

(having her ass hang out at him was starting to feel more like she was  _ insulting _ him-)

“You need to know what I can give you,” he seems to have epiphanized. “So you can ask for it.”

She’s about to reply that this all is starting to sound like he’s confusing her on purpose, but he parts the lips of her cunt with carefully examining fingers. He doesn’t...touch her a lot. This is new. 

She shivers as his other hand strokes up and down her bare flanks. A tongue roughly swipes across her sex. 

(finally finally finally  _ finally- _ )

He buries his tongue deep inside, probing, finally coaxing something other than bile to rise out of her. A moan, thighs tightening. She writhes and realizes all over her clothes are still on. Does he...want to....do something about that?

She presses backwards to rut against his licks, but he holds her hips steady, devouring like how one eats lush fruit. Enjoying the juice dripping.

“No. When you want something, you will ask me for it.”

Her breath hisses out of her nose.

Her hands reach down between her legs, trying to shove his face aside when it dips closer. It’s too slow. His mouth his muffled by the heel of her hand until he manages to shake her off. Miserable, she falls to her belly as he dives back in.

“Ask me for what you want.”

“No.”

He laughs, she feels teeth pressed into her cunt as he whispers;

“Then we can do this all night.”

 

Steam is such a luxury. She lived on a desert planet; she’s  _ amazed _ by a room filled with steam. She doesn’t need silk when she can just lay out in the refresher with hot water going, the actual touch of the water to her skin bordering on pure vice. 

For all the sex they aren’t having, Kylo Ren does spend an inordinate amount of time watching her bathe. He even washed her hair for her that morning. And it’s already wet again, dripping from the communal showers. 

Her cunt looks a little more swollen than by just the steam. It was a long night. It is  _ glowing _ with a need to be fucked. She rubs it casually, dissatisfied, as the water pours over her. 

(she’s not here to do this to herself)

Kylo may have expected a submissive who displayed perfect obedience, but he really, really seemed to enjoy trying to break her instead. 

(she was hard to break, it hadn’t been successfully done yet)

And then he up and left this morning after her bath, after checking the damage of what felt like  _ hours _ of his fingers and tongue playing with her cunt the night before and smugly putting his helmet on and just leaving her.

Without one measly orgasm.

He assured her begging would end the entire ordeal, and warned her repeatedly his tongue was getting tired so he'd be stopping soon, last chance to ask; but she would rather sleep feeling like a stunned animal than beg. Begging was undignified, to her, even more so than walking around like she just re-grew new legs. Wired beyond belief. Yelling at droids. 

Planning revenge every second.

This took some honing of a few skills picked up on Jakku to prevent being taken over the dunes by someone she couldn’t see; she had to narrow down one physical presence to commit to in the surrounding area. Not several. Just one, in the showers, alone. 

Trooper showers. 

It’s hard to feel seductive with the dark circles under her eyes.

(after what he did to her in that bed it felt impossible to ever sleep in it again)

But she can manage this with her fully naked, dripping form by just standing there. Hux was proof enough of that. 

A well-toned body enters the showers. She sensed this coming. 

She turns towards the door instinctively, as though he’s startled her while bathing. 

(very casual) 

He has the door on his side. He can leave more easily than she can. Turn around and walk out.

She has to allow to power to say  _ no _ to this. There's that chance. She'll accept that rejection as gracefully as she can two so much time

The steam makes her lips feel fuller, the curves of her cheeks feel sharper, the slick fall of her hair nicer to touch. She watches the trooper stare at her. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Somber expression. A fluttering of intrigue and casual, unquestioning attraction. 

The unsuspecting trooper does not leave the shower’s chamber upon the sight of her. 

“Who are you?”

“FN-1824.”

She purses her lips. “You look lonely, FN-1824.”

There’s only a towel around his waist, and he squares his jaw. Grunts in agreement. He’s jittery, she imagines there’s not many places for anyone to meet women on base. 

(and even if there were maybe Kylo Ren wasn’t the only one missing out on them)

So she tells him what she could not tell her master. 

“I want to cum.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did tell you to check the tags! Rey! Does! Not! Give! A! Fuck!
> 
> Ben'll break her eventually, when he figures out what the fuck he's doing.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhhhhhhh I'm so scared of doing darker stuff please placate me. 
> 
> Also, so sorry I've been M.I.A for so long, my hard drive failed so I had to slog through a lot of Apple Support to get back to you all. endless summer afternoon, to those who are readers of it, will update later this weekend, PiO will get an update soon, I promise. 
> 
> For new readers, my tumblr is secretreylotrash, my twitter is secretreylo, I love prompts and messages and general attention. Hope you like this story!


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